Plundering Everything I Want

Back in the cab, Tristan lit a cigarette, his gaze drifting to his status panel, which now displayed only the essential information he needed at the moment.

===[Status Window]===

[Tristan: Human]

[Strength: 68] (50↑)

[Agility: 70] (50↑)

[Intelligence: 72] (50↑)

[Skill: Ecstasy Heart Sutra (Level 10/20), Elementary Shooting, Elementary Combat.]

[Points: 2,000]

====================

The "Ecstasy Heart Sutra" had worked its magic.

Each level boosted his strength, agility, and intelligence by 5 points, so hitting level 10 added 50 points to each stat.

In addition to what was shown in the status window, his basic attack power shot up by 50 points, and his movement speed had increased by 10%.

'No wonder I felt so nimble, and even after a night of intense sex, I wasn't even remotely exhausted.'

Both he and Jill were virgins, and they had sex together for god knows how many hours, possibly shattering the barriers of ordinary sex in one night.

Still, who would have thought that after his first time, the skill would directly jump to level 10?

Seeing his stats, Tristan felt a surge of excitement. The power this new method granted was real—fast and effective. His mind raced with possibilities.

When he arrived at the gym, he decided to test his newfound strength.

Bang!

A single powerful punch sent the sandbag flying, causing the tough leather to almost split.

"Whoa."

Flexing his hands and clenching his fists, he felt the raw power coursing through his body. His reflection in the gym mirror looked sharper, more defined.

The pieces were falling into place, and the good days were about to begin.

Everything he'd done before was for this moment! 

'One minute on stage, ten years of hard work offstage,' he thought, a grin tugging at his lips.

He had a huge plan in his mind—to gather power, women, and resources all at once.

But first of all, he needed to expand his power. 

Raccoon City wouldn't last two years if things went as predicted. If he didn't act quickly, everything he'd worked for would crumble into ruins. He needed to secure his power here, then expand beyond it.

Suddenly, his mind wandered to the women he had yet to claim.

The mysterious and sexy spy Ada Wong, the sweet and lovely Rebecca, the noble and mature president Excella, the heroic and beautiful female college student Claire... the list went on. All waiting to be saved—or played with—by him.

A smirk crept onto his face. His ambitions were bold, terrifying even. But he forced himself to calm down.

Confidence was good, but arrogance was a killer. Sure, his strength was now 3-4 times greater than that of most humans, but in the vastness of the infinite cosmos, he was still barely a speck.

Quickly adjusting his mentality, Tristan went back home, took a bath, ate some food, changed into decent clothes, and made his way to the city hall to meet the former mayor, Michael Warren, who had been toying with a crazy scheme of his own.

The mayor's office could be called a shrine of extravagance—rich, opulent furnishings all around him.

Of course, in the cutthroat political scene of the United States, such displays were commonplace.

Even the bottle of red wine on Warren's desk, worth hundreds of thousands, was not surprising.

This was capitalism at its finest.

Michael Warren was a heavyset man with a thick beard and sharp eyes—the kind that could size you up in an instant.

Despite his strong appearance, he had the cunning to convince the Umbrella Corporation to invest heavily in Raccoon City, spearheading the project Bright Raccoon 21st. 

He was undeniably a remarkable figure, one who had secured his place among the upper echelons.

"Tristan, you've got two minutes. If you don't have something important to tell me, consider yourself fired by tomorrow!"

Warren poured himself a glass of wine, and his tone was dismissive and impatient.

But Tristan didn't care. With casual confidence, he pulled out a chair, sat down without asking permission, and cut straight to the chase.

"Umbrella may seem untouchable right now, but the board of directors is already tearing itself apart. You know how they started—pharmaceuticals. But if certain... activities here come to light, not even Umbrella can shield itself from the fallout. So, Mr. Mayor, tell me—are you really prepared to go down with them, or do you have an exit plan?"

Warren's hands clenched beneath the table, his fingers twitching toward the pistol holstered underneath. His mind raced, but outwardly, he remained still.

"What exactly are you getting at?"

"We can both secure our futures without relying on these corporate giants," Tristan said, leaning forward. "You want money and power. I want wealth beyond imagination. You have the political clout, and I have the channels. Together, we can form a profitable alliance. It's a win-win."

With a smirk, Tristan slid a photograph across the table.

"This… is proof that your precious lover has been screwing around with other men. Oh, and she's been hiding evidence of your dealings with Umbrella. She's keeping things from you."

Bang!

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

Warren slammed his wine glass down, and his face was flushed with anger. He felt like he was being led around by the nose, but he also understood that the man in front of him was really not as simple as he had expected him to be.

Tristan remained unfazed by Warren's outburst.

"Like you, I'm someone who's helped Umbrella in more ways than one. I'm sure you've heard about the lab they set up in the suburbs. Raccoon City is nothing but a chess piece to them, and you? A mere pawn. If things go sideways here, you know what happens next."

With a hint of teasing in his eyes, Tristan spoke casually and leaned back into his chair.

Upon hearing what he said, Warren's bravado began to waver. His eyes flickered with uncertainty as he tried to maintain control.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Sadly, the doubt in his voice betrayed him.

"Then let me remind you."

Tristan continued, his tone turning icy.

"Before the closure of the Arklay Mountains Hospital three years ago, Umbrella was conducting experiments there. You know the kind, I mean... Their 'tests' turned the patients into mindless, flesh-eating monsters. Cannibals, Warren… Umbrella sealed off the hospital afterward and left it to rot. You think you're important to them? You're nothing. I'm not here to scare you. I'm here to propose a partnership."

Tristan stood up, took hold of the table, leaned down, and spoke loudly.

"So, Mr. Mayor, shall we work together, or will you wait until the whole city burns?"

Warren's hands trembled slightly as he reached for the wine bottle again, filling his glass with a shaky pour.

This time, he pushed it towards Tristan.

"Let's hear your thoughts."

Tristan nodded and sat back, his eyes gleaming with calculated ambition.

"The biggest profit right now is in smuggling. I can source cheap cars—hell, dirt cheap—but I'll need your help getting them through customs. Smuggling the cars is just the start. There's other merchandise too, stuck at the checkpoints, waiting for the right deal. I'm talking about cars that cost less than $5,000 but can sell for $50,000. Sounds tempting?"

Warren sipped his wine, unfazed.

"That's not enough."

He dismissed the amount without a second thought.

Naturally, Tristan wasn't surprised by this. He had already planned it out before coming here.

So, he simply put out the real chip with a flicker of madness flashing in his eyes.

"Then, let me deal with the gangs in Raccoon City. They've got no Umbrella backing—just low-level thugs from out of town who couldn't cut it in their own cities. Give me a week, and I'll have them all under my thumb. Once that happens, we're looking at tens or even hundreds of millions a month in parking fees, saunas, game halls, and protection money. And that's just the start. We'll expand to nearby cities. I've got connections in the arms trade too, and those weapons go for a premium."

The more he spoke, the more his voice grew more intense, and the weight of his ambition could be felt clearly.

Tristan was thinking big—Raccoon City was just the beginning.

First, control the local underworld, build the wealth, and then—once they'd solidified their power—they could go legit and turn all that blood money into a respectable empire.

It was the perfect play: rise to power through the underground, then clean their hands as "serious businessmen."

This time, Warren finally felt a pull and was tempted by the plan's scope.

"You know what I want."

"Of course."

Tristan's lips curled into a wicked smirk.

"The bigger my empire, the more money we bring in. And the more men under my command, the more influence we control. Votes? I can get them for you, no problem. You're thinking mayor? That's just the start. Governor, senator, secretary of state—hell, even the presidency. They're all within your reach."

There was a dark gleam in Tristan's eyes as he spoke. He knew exactly how to pull Warren's strings. After all, this wasn't about trust or loyalty—it was about mutual benefit.

"Does this sound like a bad deal?"